Lucid
by stellagibbons
Summary: Post 2x03. Stella has been dreaming about Paul and now he knows.


"Oh Stella, how well I know you now."

The words echoed back and forth in her head as she dropped the diary to the floor. She could feel the tears stinging her eyes, but she refused to cry. She wasn't upset. She was pissed. The piece of shit had come into her room and enjoyed utter privacy as he read her fucking diary. He knew all about her childhood, her father's death, her sexual fantasies, her inability to have children and the depression that had followed...he knew about all of it. Stella flipped back to last Tuesday's entry. The night she had had a sex dream about Paul.

_He came into my room. Pinned me down. Fucked me. I liked it. Why? He was so large, so much stronger than other men. I'm falling? Don't remember._

She flipped the page to Thursday's entry.

_Dreamt about Paul again. This time I fucked him. I'm in control. Strap-on? Don't know._

Then last night.

_Shot Paul. Bullets had no effect. He attacked me and fucked me against a wall. My office._

He knew. Stella felt a flush of embarrassment and could feel her face turning red. She was going to call the police, of course, but she was well aware of the fact that they were going to take her diary. Someone (hopefully not Eastwood) was going to read her diary and see her dreams about Spector. Fuck.

The dreams had been coming to her full force for the past few nights now. They weren't fantasies…just passing thoughts. Her subconscious coming up to haunt her in the form of succulent sensation. In a sick, twisted way, it didn't surprise her that Spector would show up in her dreams this way. After all, he was on her mind constantly…as was sex. It was inevitable that the two obsessions would meld.

She closed her eyes and remembered Friday's dream, when he fucked her against the wall. It had started suddenly. He hadn't entered, he had just appeared in front of her. She was wearing her nightgown and holding out her gun, the same as in Wednesday's dream, but when she pulled the trigger no bullets came out. He hit the gun out of her hand and pushed her against the wall. Stella felt the strength of his body and the length of his cock. He held her wrists tight, but she wasn't moving either way. She was frozen in space. She felt his hands glide down her arms and chest before ripping off her gown (when she had woken the next morning, her pajamas were completely torn to shreds). She could feel his touch so clearly. Her skin tingled as his latex covered hands grabbed her breasts roughly…

Stella laid back on her bed, leaving the diary on the floor. The memory of her dream was too much…too little. She needed to feel it again. Reaching over to her bedside table, Stella pulled out a 7in dildo and lube. She wanted to feel full, satiated. She leaned back on her bed, closed her eyes, and let the images come back.  
Paul's hands were roaming down her body. His lips looked soft and curious as he kissed Stella's breasts. Her nipples were hard and erect, perfect for sucking on. Instead, he bit them. Stella screamed out, pushing him away, only to have him body slam her against the wall again. She arched her back, thrusting her vagina against his hard erection. This was not lost on Paul. He smiled mischievously, looking into Stella's frozen eyes. She looked just as mischievous. She felt like a young girl again, experiencing sexual pleasure for the first time. Unable to look at his smirk anymore, Stella grabbed his face and started to kiss Paul furiously. She stuck her tongue down his throat, wanting to taste him. Not breaking the kiss, Paul moved his hands down to Stella's tight pencil skirt. He hiked it up to her waist and ripped her panties off before quickly unzipping his pants. Then, he grabbed her legs and pushed her up against the wall, Stella following suit by wrapping her legs around his strong back. They stood like this for a moment, Stella suspended against the wall, legs gripping Paul's firm frame. She could feel how wet she was. Paul smiled and moved two fingers down to her lips, just to make sure she was ready. They slipped in without resistance. He could feel how soft she was, how warm and how wet. Slowly, he moved his fingers back up and stuck them in Stella's mouth.

"Taste it."

He pushed his fingers into the back of her throat, causing her to choke a little. Then, she felt him move inside her. In one powerful movement, Paul thrust his dick into her tight cunt. Stella screamed out, holding on for dear life. The only thing she could feel right now was Paul fucking her senseless. There was nothing else, no wall behind her, no pain in her legs or throat, only his cock deep inside her. He slowed down the pace for a moment. He was playing with her, trying to get her to beg for it. Stella refused to be teased, however, and quickly took over the pace by moving her body down on his thick penis. Wanting more leverage, Paul grabbed Stella and pushed her against the desk. Missionary was too boring, though. Instead, he grabbed the back of her legs and pulled them up until her knees were next to her ears. Stella held onto her ankles, afraid she might slip as Paul pumped into her, faster and faster.

"Do you want to be fucked?" He had asked.

"Yes. Fuck me. Harder. Faster."

Paul sped up the pace, thrusting his thick cock into her pink folds, pounding into her over and over again, unable to come. She was so fucking tight, but he felt like he could keep going and never stop…

A naked Stella was laying on the bed, moaning as she pumped the dildo furiously into her vagina. Sweat was forming on her brow, her eyes closed tight and her soft lips open and gasping. She needed more stimulation, something to push her over the edge. Quickly, she moved a hand down to her clit, rubbing the tight nerves until, finally, her orgasm hit. It sent waves through her small body, her vaginal walls clamping down on the dildo. She felt it squirt inside her, sending more waves of pleasure deep into her abdomen. Stella felt content as she pulled the large member from her cunt and put it back in the bedside drawer. She fell back on the bed, slightly angry with herself for re-living her Paul dream…fantasy…whatever is was. It's just a fantasy, she told herself. She still had to call the cops and tell them what had happened. I can't let them see that.

Against her investigative judgment, Stella grabbed the diary off the floor and removed any pages that described Paul Spector and her sexual appetite on the same page. Evidence or not, it was professional suicide to leave those entries in her diary. Stella was well aware that they wouldn't lift any evidence off of her diary. He had left an entry and changed the backdrop on her computer. Clearly he knew where she was staying, but there wasn't much more that they could extract from his break-in. The pages were inconsequential-an embarrassment containing her deepest, darkest fantasies.


End file.
